Where Loyalties Lie
by MissMajor
Summary: Currently in progress to become a series of one-shots which will involve Altair/Malik, Ezio/Leo, and Desmond/Shaun. Rated M for language and lemons! Ideas for one-shots will graciously be accepted! Enjoy!
1. Blood, Sweat, and Ink

"What do YOU know about loss, Altair?! You chose to run away from your family!" Malik fumed. "I was forced to watch my brother, my only family, be slaughtered like a pig and for what?! For this god forsaken Brotherhood?!" Altair stared with careful, grey eyes, contemplating his words, "Malik, you don't mean that… Just listen to what I have to say." "No, Altair! You listen! I've had to put up with your bullshit for years and I'm through!" Malik shouted, his voice becoming hoarse. When Malik was pissed off, it was nearly impossible for Altair to get his two cents worth in; but not this time. "Malik, for once, can you shut your god damned mouth?" Altair snapped, beginning to lose his temper as well. Malik was taken aback by Altair's harsh tone, but quickly recoiled, "Since when have you had the balls?" The elder assassin's eyes were narrowed into deathly shards, his hand placed expertly on his hip. "Since when was it allowed to talk to me like a dog? If I were to be any other Master Assassin, I'd have cut your tongue from your mouth right where you stand!" Altair seethed to hear Malik scoff in return. "So have I not been your friend for all these years?! Did I not stand by your side during the falsity of Al Mualim's reign?! Just because you have come to be the Brotherhood's leader –" Malik stopped himself, only to begin again, "You use that rank of yours as a shield! Behind that Master Assassin façade is nothing but a sniveling coward!" Altair's eye twitched at the sound of that last word. _C o w a r d_. "Don't go there, Malik." Altair warned. Malik could sense the lividity radiating dangerously from Altair's person, but continued, "My point proven! You try to avoid uncomfortable situations by playing the part of the big boss. You act as if you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, but I know you Altair and right now you're being a bloody coward!"

Malik was quickly taken aback as Altair painfully pinned him against a nearby bookshelf. "Call me a coward ONE more time!" Altair hissed. Malik, now equally hopped up on adrenaline, must've had a death wish. "You're pitiful." Those two words rewarded Malik with a vice grip latched to his throat. "Al-ta-i-r…" The elder assassin breathed, but Altair was far too lost in his anger to hear him. Malik was left with no choice. Snaking his only arm free from his side, Malik clenched his fist and swung hitting Altair square in the nose. A loud sickening crack echoed throughout the bureau. Releasing his grip, Altair cupped his nose and for a second Malik swore his eyes were as red as the crimson staining his fingers. Seeing his opening, Malik snatched one of Altair's throwing knives and then landed a harsh kick to his chest. Altair toppled backwards to have Malik straddle his waist and feeling the cold steel against his neck, he decided it best not to move. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Malik stood, "Do not under estimate me again." Altair got to his feet as well, his nose still bleeding heavily, "I think it's broken." The intense aura of the room seemed to vanish when Malik approached his younger friend, arm extended. Altair looked down to see a white cloth, but made no motion to accept it. "I don't want you bleeding all over my bureau." Malik sighed as he began to dab the blood from his friend's nose. Altair was quick to avoid Malik's gaze as he felt the heat rise in his face. Before his mind began to wander, Malik brought Altair back to reality, "Can you forgive me?" The Master Assassin hesitated, "Malik you are a dear friend to me. You always will be. Of course I forgive you." Malik knew Altair hadn't had the easiest time saying that, but he was honored to hear those words.

The bureau had gone awkwardly quiet, but thankfully Altair broke the silence, "I think it'd be best if I left for a bit. To collect my thoughts and let you get back to your work." Malik unconsciously nodded in agreement. As Altair turned to leave, Malik snatched his sleeve, "Let me fix that nose of yours first." The younger assassin prepared himself as Malik grasped the swollen bridge of his nose. S N A P! "Oww! You bastard!" Altair yelled, wincing in pain. Malik felt a smirk come across his lips, "Honestly Altair, I believe you deserved that. Also, I'm afraid it may heal a bit crooked." "Thanks Malik. Without my dashing good looks my days as an assassin are nearing their end." Altair laughed whole heartedly as he waved leaving the bureau. Malik smiled ever so lightly. It was a rare occasion to see Altair smile let alone laugh. "A blood red rose in midst of winters snow." Malik thought aloud as he retreated to his desk.

. . .

It had only been about twenty minutes since Altair left. Malik was enjoying the peace and quiet as he sat at his desk correcting a map. Oddly his eyebrow began twitching. Something was coming, but what was to come took the elder assassin completely by surprise. Suddenly a small portion of the ceiling sank in and a loud crack resonated throughout the bureau. Malik cautiously approached the looming cloud of dust to see two novice assassins. "What is the meaning of this?!" Malik shouted. The two novices stood, dusting themselves off. Malik sighed loudly, "Why couldn't you have used the door like normal human beings?" The novices bowed their heads in unison, "We are deeply sorry." Malik stared up through the gaping hole in his roof and gritted his teeth, "This is a mess!" The novices again bowed their heads and quickly left, but luckily through the front door this time. Malik ran his fingers through his brunette locks, his mouth taut. He was emotionally exhausted. "How can this day possibly get any worse?" Malik grumbled. Returning to his desk, Malik was greeted by murky pool of ink settling over his now ruined map of Jerusalem. His ink well had been knocked over. "I swear to Allah!" Malik almost screamed. Then without another word, Malik stalked his way across the bureau into the recreational room. There the weary assassin placed himself comfortably on top of the many vivid cushions. Malik soon found himself nodding off.

. . .

Altair was baffled when he saw the disarray in the bureau. He was only gone for a few hours and all hell seemed to of broken loose. Studying the large portions of ceiling that laid in a massive heap on the floor, Altair knew Malik's mood had to of been way beyond cantankerous. Then a faint dripping caught the Master Assassin's attention. Turning, Altair saw an inky black puddle forming on the floor. On the desk above sat a thoroughly soaked parchment and an overturned ink well. "Wonderful." Altair thought aloud as he scanned the bureau for any sign of an irate Malik. Making his way towards the recreational room, Altair heard calmed breathing. "Working hard or hardly working my friend?" Altair teased as he entered. Malik awoke easily and furrowed his brow in annoyance. "I see you decided to redo the decorating while I was gone." Altair commented, hinting towards the front room. "Ha. Ha." Malik replied as his fatigued eyes locked with Altair's. "So how did this happen?" Altair inquired as he helped Malik get to his feet. "Well shortly after our little fiasco, two novice assassins literally decided to drop in." The elder assassin stated unhappily as Altair followed him into the front room. Removing his hood, Altair gazed up through the gaping hole, the evening sun contouring his face. Malik observed his friend's slightly blackened eye and swollen, horribly bruised nose. "You look like crap." Altair glanced over his shoulder, "No thanks to you and your right hook."

Feeling Malik's watchful eyes, Altair replaced his hood and brought to attention the black mess, "The other day, didn't you say that was your last well of ink?" Malik rubbed his temple, "Don't remind me. Do you have any idea how much those cost? One well can last me for weeks if I use it sparingly." Altiar watched as Malik began to soak up the ink with a tattered rag. The elder assassin sighed, "Thank Allah that this day is almost through. Don't you agree Altair?" The said assassian shifted his weight, "Malik, can we talk? About earlier…" Malik could feel a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, "If you wish." Altair placed himself on a stool next to his friend, his heart heavy. "I thought we put what happened at Solomon's Temple behind us?" Malik's face became poignant, "Some days, it's really painful for me. Today was one of those days." The two assassins sat in an oppressive silence. "I'm sorry." Altair managed to utter. Malik smiled a weary smile, "It's quite alright Altair. There is no need to apologize. You are no longer the man you were at Solomon's Temple." Malik placed a strong hand on Altair's shoulder. "You are a good friend, Malik." The Master Assassin reassured. Suddenly Altair became uncomfortable when his grey eyes locked with brown. "Are you not feeling well?" Malik questioned, noticing his friend's flushed face. Words briefly seemed to escape Altair's tongue and he cursed himself for becoming so flustered. The brunette then quickly realized that Altair felt perfectly fine, except for the fact his heart may very well burst from his chest at any given moment. "Altair?" Malik again questioned, this time with a smirk. Altair knew Malik had caught on. There was no where to run.

What was to follow took Malik completely by surprise. Altair roughly shoved his companion against the wall and kissed him fiercely. "What are you…" Malik managed to gasp before his hooded friend again occupied his lips. Altair's tongue was begging for entrance and Malik reluctantly gave consent. The elder assassin's skin broke into gooseflesh as he felt Altair exploring his mouth and let slip a small moan. Altair bit at Malik's lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood, in reply. Malik pulled away, his lungs aching, "Not enough air in the world…" The Master Assassin stared with lustful eyes and smiled, "Al-Sayf." Altair then leaned in and licked at the blood on Malik's lips before he moved to nibble at his neck. "Ahh… You're going to leave bruises, Altair." The brunette protested only to feel a calloused hand wander under his shirt. Altair ran his fingers over his friend's muscled abdomen and was rewarded with yet another moan of pleasure. The hand then moved to Malik's waist instantly causing the elder assassin's eyes to snap open. Altair was quickly taken aback as Malik pushed back his hood and kissed him hard, their teeth clattering. "God…" The Master Assassin breathed when Malik ensued to grind his thigh on his painfully hard arousal. Seconds later both of the men stared at each other, their breaths ragged and hot. "Malik… I shouldn't of… I'm sorry." Altair muttered in regret as he escaped to his room. Malik stood alone, sweaty, aroused, and pissed off. "Why in the hell did he apologize?!" The elder assassin yelled in question to no one in particular. Malik exhaled heavily and stormed off towards his bed chambers, pausing briefly at Altair's room only to scoff. Altair listened intently as Malik cursed some sort of vulgarity before slamming his door shut. "God damn it. Why am I such a fool?" The grey-eyed assassin asked aloud, mentally kicking himself.

. . .

Malik's brow furrowed in his sleep till his eyes lingered open. It was early morning. Very early Malik judged due to the lack of sunlight and a loud, bothersome banging was coming from within the bureaus front room. Removing himself from the comfort of his bed, Malik proceeded to investigate. "Good morning, Al-Sayf." A young novice greeted. "Ezekiel? What in the world are you doing here at this hour?" The elder assassin inquired angrily. "Altair sent for us." A voice from above commented. Malik gazed upward to see another novice, "Hakim?" Jumping from the somewhat repaired hole in the roof, Hakim continued, "Some hours ago, Altair came on horseback and requested that we come repair your roof immediately. He left us with some coin for supplies and said he had other business to attend to." "But," Ezekiel began, "Altair gave us specific instructions on the improvements he wanted to see upon his return." Malik sighed, "And what improvements would those be?" "Altair insisted that we turn this hole into a door or sorts." Hakim replied showing Malik the plans Altair had drawn out. Malik snatched the parchment from the novice assassin's hands and was surprised by how detailed it was. The two assassins stared, eagerly waiting for Malik to reply. "Fine, just hurry up." The elder assassin finally snapped before returning to his room.

. . .

Several hours later, Malik found himself wandering the streets of Jerusalem. It was going to be a hot day. "I'd like to take five apples and two bundles of grapes, please." Malik requested from a merchant. Paying for the fruits and having them placed in a sack, the brunette continued on. "Ah, excuse me sir!" A woman called out. Malik turned to see a kiosk displaying various books, papers, and quills. "You wouldn't happen to have any ink wells would you?" Malik asked as he approached the woman. "I'm sorry sir; we sold our only two earlier this afternoon." "That's too bad." Malik sighed as he thanked the woman and left. Oddly enough, the next two kiosks that usually sold wells of ink were out as well, both saying two adolescents bought what they had in stock. Now thoroughly disappointed, Malik headed back to the bureau.

"About damn time." An all too familiar voice ridiculed as Malik entered. "Do you not have anything better to do, Altair?" Malik greeted, rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid not until I must take my leave back to Masyaf." Altair informed nonchalantly. "Masyaf?" The elder assassin asked with a hint of distress in his voice. Moving to his desk, Malik then noticed the roof door had been completed. "Where are Ezekiel and Hakim?" "They left shortly before you arrived. Ugh, this heat is unbearable." Altair muttered as he undid his belt began to remove the top portion of his robes. Malik's cheeks immediately flushed scarlet, "I'd prefer not having you parade around half naked in my bureau, Altair." "You lie through your teeth, Malik." The Master Assassin commented smugly as he continued to pull the ivory garment up and over his head. Malik watched almost too intently as the robes fell to the floor. Altair laughed, "Do you like what you see?" The brunette bit his tongue as his eyes scanned over his friend's beautifully toned torso. Scars, big and small alike, littered his skin, but those were only a fraction of what made Malik lust for him so. Altair watched as Malik shifted uncomfortably before he placed a bag of fruit on the desk, "Well?" "Well, what?" Altair mimicked. "Don't play games with me, Ibn-Al'Ahad. You know very well 'what'." Malik retorted, an air of authority about him. The two assassins, undoubtedly, during the many past years longed for each other, but each oblivious to the other's true feelings until last night. Now that the ice was finally broken, they were free to convey their irrevocable love for one another.

Altair approached the desk, his sway confident but his face crimson, "Do you want to have sex or not?" Malik's mouth gaped open at the bluntness of the question, "Umm…" "By all means take your time, Al-Sayf. I'll be in my room." Altair said before he turned and ambled off. Malik stood, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. "That bastard. That egotistical, overconfident, supercilious, condescending bastard." The elder assassin murmured under his breath. Malik was aware Altair knew he'd win this battle, but the brunette would gladly give his remaining arm before he let the Master Assassin win the war. Malik breathed in deeply, his body nearly trembling as he made his way to the wooden door that separated himself from Altair. Though he knocked gently, the sound resonated like thunder in the brunette's ears. "There is no need for etiquette." Malik could hear on the other side of the door. Reluctantly, a shaky hand pulled the entrance to heaven, or possibly hell, ajar. Once in the room, Altair lay atop his bed adorned in only his leggings. Gulping loudly, Malik made his way to the bed. Both of the men had faced unspeakable horrors and committed the sin of all sins: murder. Strangely enough though, each of them felt as if they were hormone driven teenagers again.

Before Malik could even get within five inches of the bed, he was forced down underneath Altair with newfound strength. Their lips met violently and Altair tore at Malik's clothing, "Why must you wear the difficult robes?" The elder assassin smirked against his lover's mouth. Soon Malik found himself clad in only his leggings much like his friend, both of their arousals very obvious. "Let me help you with that." Altair laughed as Malik attempted to remove his remaining garment. Pulling off the elder assassin's leggings and then his own, Altair took in the beautiful sight that was Malik. The Master Assassin noticed his friend's embarrassment and comforted him, "Don't be ashamed. I love you, flaws and all. I always have." Malik was always self-conscious about his arm, but those words eased his mind greatly. "Alt-" The brunette was then cut off by a calloused hand gripping itself around his member. Altair pumped his hand with a hidden finesse and was rewarded with a throaty groan from Malik. "God… Altair." The elder assassin breathed. The ecstasy was overwhelming for the both of them. "This is going to be uncomfortable." Altair warned as he moved his free hand to Malik's entrance. "Just do it." The elder assassin pleaded. "As you wish." Altair replied pushing one, two, then three fingers into Malik. The brunette gasped in pain. After a few seconds of scissoring, the Master Assassin coated his length with his and Malik's pre-cum. Without warning Altair slid into his friend with a low grunt. Malik inhaled sharply at the sudden, large intrusion, "Altair!" "The pain will ease." Altair insured as he began thrusting slowly. Malik soon found himself meeting the thrusts with his own, moaning every so often. Altair particularly enjoyed the fact Malik didn't scream out like a banshee much like the women he slept with did. Just the look on his friend's face was all he needed to know it was pleasurable beyond anything else he had ever experienced.

Malik opened his eyes to see the covetousness painted upon Altair's face, "You're amazing." Altair responded with a hard thrust that caused the elder assassin to arch his back. "Faster, Altair." Malik commanded greedily as he clutched the cotton sheets, knuckles white. The Master Assassin hastily complied as he lifted Malik's legs over his shoulders and increased his pace. Malik's vision suddenly turned white hot as Altair repeatedly hit a spot deep within him. "ALTAIR!" The said assassin was taken aback from his friend's sudden roar of bliss and continued his thrusts feeling his climax nearing. "I'm going to…!" Malik moaned through clenched teeth as he released his seed onto his now sweaty chest. Altair doubled over in pleasure as he felt the elder assassin's entrance tighten around him. With a few more thrusts, the Master Assassin came hard with a hoarse groan. Sliding Malik's legs off of his shoulders, Altair removed his half-limp member and leaned down to kiss his lover, "Malik…" "I love you too, Altair." The brunette hushed, a smile spreading across his chapped lips. The two men then sat up, their breathing ragged and their bodies covered in sweat and semen. "I don't constitute making love as a practical way to cool down." Altair joked, his mind oddly peaceful. Malik easily noticing the slight gleam in his friend's eyes, "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy." "Me neither, but I could say the same for you, _Al-Sayf_." The name dripped off Altair's tongue like poison. Grinning lazily, Malik wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. "Just a suggestion, but why don't we clean up? I'm feeling particularly…" The elder assassin searched for the proper word, "Dirty." Altair agreed noting the sticky substance between his fingers and on his chest.

. . .

Outside of the door, two novice assassins sat quite embarrassed. They had returned from a "mission" Altair had given them approximately half an hour ago. They were somewhat worried seeing the bureau unwatched as Malik threw a royal fit when Altair would snooze off when he was out and about. The two adolescents had begun to make their way to Malik's room with a box of seven ink wells when muted moans could be heard from none other than their Master's bedchambers. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?" Hakim whispered to his companion. Ezekiel couldn't keep himself from blushing, "Obviously." "Seems Ibn-Al'Ahad couldn't stay his blade." Hakim laughed as he elbowed his friend. "This is hardly the time to crack jokes, pervert. Shhh! I hear footsteps." Ezekiel warned as he slapped his hand over Hakim's mouth. The door then flung open revealing an irate Altair. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" The Master's voice was deathly calm. The novices quickly glanced inside to see their Rafiq tying his robes, their eyes meeting briefly before Altair slammed the door shut behind him. "We, uh, got these as you requested." Hakim stuttered as he placed the box of ink at Altair's feet. The Master Assassin was still not pleased. "We won't tell anyone!" Ezekiel blurted out, his nerves shot. Altair narrowed his brow as he picked up the box, "You best not, otherwise you two may tragically die in some sort of accident involving impalement. Now be gone with you!" The novices were quick to bow their heads and scramble away.

"You have your way with words, Altair." Malik laughed as his friend reentered the room. "They're good kids. They remind me of us when we were young. Always getting into trouble." Altair said as he smiled at the fond memory. "What's this?" The elder assassin asked as he peered into the box. There sat seven wells of ink. "It's your birthday gift." "What? I thought I told you birthdays were nonsense. You even agreed!" Malik complained. It finally clicked in his mind that Altair must have sent Hakim and Ezekiel to the market which explained the strange story of the two adolescents. "You shouldn't have." Malik muttered as Altair wrapped his arms around his small shoulders. "Well it was either those or a camel." "What in the name of the Holy Land possessed you to think I'd want a camel for my 29th birthday?" The two men stared at each other and then broke out into hysterics. After a few minutes, Altair wiped the tears at the corner of his eyes and his face became solemn. "I have to return to Masyaf." "When?" Malik asked rigidly. "Three days, but my duties shall surely consume me for many weeks. I'm sorry, Malik." "Your loyalty knows no bounds." The brunette sighed. "True, but my loyalties do not solely lie with the assassins. Where my loyalties lie are with you."


	2. Renaissance Preview

I'm so sorry for such a long delay! I have been very busy with school and registering for college so time to work on my fanfics easily escapes me! I might as well perform seppuku! The shame! But alas if I were to do that then I couldn't provide you with juicy boy love stories! What is with so many exclamations? Ahem, anyways, here is a preview of my next installment featuring your favorite Italianos, Ezio and wait for it, wait for it—LEONARDO! Sadly I had written quite a bit more, but I can't find my flashdrive with the most recent version. Enough with the excuses though. Enjoy!

A loud knocking abruptly awoke Leonardo from his power nap. "Yes, yes. I'm coming." He replied groggily. Quickly tidying his shirt and hair, Leonardo opened the door. "Ah, Ezio! Bello vederti! What brings you here mi amico? It's been so long!" Ezio wasn't left a fraction of a second to reply as he was embraced tightly by his painter friend. Moments later, Auditore found himself sitting by a crackling fireplace sipping hot tea. "It's been well over a month. Where have you been?" Leonardo questioned, his green eyes sparkling with delight. Ezio shrugged, "I've been around. You know, doing the usual." "By usual do you mean breaking the hearts of signorinas and causing uproar amongst the people?" da Vinci laughed. "You could say that. Don't forget assassinating corrotto bastardos." Ezio, replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

. . .

The two talked long into the night until Ezio decided to retire for his journey to Venice was a long one. "I will see you tomorrow?" The green-eyed painter questioned, unsure if his assassino friend would disappear by dawn. "Si. Buona notte." The brunette waved as he made his way up to the room Leonardo so graciously offered him. Closing the door behind him, Ezio began to make his way towards the bed when he stumbled. Looking down, brown-eyes stared at a now broken sextant. "Porca vacca." Was all he could say as he picked up the damaged instrument, placing it on the nightstand. Yawning, Ezio then sat upon the bed and began undoing his belt and many fastenings. Removing his hidden blades, boots, then hooded garment, Auditore finally rested his weary head, clad only in his leggings. The cool ocean air felt good over his bare chest and within minutes, sleep overcame the young italiano.

Meanwhile downstairs, sleep escaped Leonardo. He stared intently at the dying fire, his heart racing a mile a minute; he hadn't been this happy to see Ezio in, well, ever. Yes they were the best of friends, but da Vinci knew he longed to be more than just friends. The sheer thought saddened him somehow. Perhaps it was because Ezio was as straight as a lamp post and for Leonardo to reveal his sexuality would damage their long time friendship.


End file.
